


I Don’t Wanna Be A Pop Star

by RyuichiSakuma



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Original song lyrics, Singing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-29 23:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyuichiSakuma/pseuds/RyuichiSakuma
Summary: Law needed to find a way to deal with stress at work.  He didn't expect forthisto happen.Meanwhile, Luffy wanted to find something to strive for. It wasn'tthathard, was it? It just took him nineteen years of his life, and one link to a video.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I was talking to a few of my writer friends and somehow this idea was born. 
> 
> All songs are original works. _**PLEASE do NOT use these lyrics anywhere without the author’s written permission! I put my heart and soul into them!**_ Thank you!
> 
> Ryuichi

 

“GOD DAMN IT SON OF A BITCH FUCKING HELLFIRE FLAMING COWS ON ROLLER SKATES!”  
  
Doctor Law Trafalgar slammed his condo door hard behind him, violently kicking off his shoes, then kicking them out of the way as he threw his keys hard towards the couch. They ended up falling behind it, hitting the wall and sliding down to end up on the floor while the lanky man forcefully threw himself onto said piece of furniture. Tears threatened to break free of his eyes as he buried his face into a pillow, punching the poor couch a few times as he attempted to settle down. A muffled sob broke out, then another, as the condo filled with the sounds of crying.

 

Law hadn’t realized he fell asleep until pins and needles in his left hand forced him to rouse from his unexpected nap. Sighing, he sat up and shook his hand in order to get feeling back into the numb limb. When feeling returned, he stood and inhaled deep, held it for a count of ten then blew it out in order to help prevent his pounding heart from breaking free from his chest.

 

It didn’t work.

 

Sighing once more, he padded to his bedroom and threw himself onto the bed, burying his face in soft, white fur.

 

“He fucking _died,_ Bepo-ya! I brought him back from the brink of death, cracked open his chest to internally massage his heart, got it working once again, made sure he went into rehab for his addiction, even went above and beyond and got the little fucker a job as a bagger at the local grocery store. So what does that sonofabitch fucking _do_ with the money from his first real paycheck _EVER?_ Goes out and buys more drugs and overdoses again! I watched the Paramedics try to bring him back when they rolled in through the ER doors, but I knew he was too far gone to bring back!”

 

Law punched the pillow next to the polar bear plushie and then flung himself onto his back, his head still in the giant plushie’s lap.

 

“Micah died. A seventeen year old _kid_ fucking _died,_ Bepo-ya! And for _what?_ Another high! Was being high _really_ worth his life?”

 

Spread-eagle on the bed, the blue-haired man was grateful for having the next two days off work. He stared up at the ceiling for a long time, lost in thought as morning sunlight began to slowly filter into the bedroom window.

 

When the sunlight finally hit his eyes, Law stood and stretched. Scratching his side, he wandered into the bathroom and took a quick shower. Still wrapped in his bath towel, he made his way to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee going, pouring himself a cup before sitting down at the kitchen island.

 

Perusing the news on his laptop, he came across Micah’s story. Quickly scanning it, he smirked at the news that the teen’s drug dealer had been caught and was now sitting in jail, awaiting murder charges. Frowning, he glared at the wild-eyed mug shot of the 20-something year old man.

 

“Dumbfuck, didn’t it ever occur to you that if someone _died_ from your poison, _you_ would be charged with _murder?_ ” Shaking his head, he clicked on a random side story. His external speakers blared a news story of a 2 year old kid being lauded as a skateboarding phenomenon. Watching it, soon Law found himself on youtube watching videos of all kinds, from heavy metal roosters to the latest model phones being dropped from buildings and immersed in various liquids.

 

Eventually the surgeon found himself watching videos of people singing movie and anime songs in their bedrooms. Stopping at one singer, he ended up watching all twelve songs the girl sang, an idea forming in his mind as he got up from the kitchen island to get dressed.

 

“I can sing pretty well, Bepo-ya,” he told the bear as he picked out a bright green long sleeve. Pulling it over his now-dry hair, he continued.

 

“How about I sing on youtube? I don’t want to show my face, so how about I show yours instead? Want to become a singing star?”

 

Smirking, he pulled out his phone and brought up his google app. Perusing song after song, none of them seemed to have what the doctor was looking for. Sitting down in the bed, he sighed and ran his head through dark blue locks.

 

“Fuck. No one has the kind of emotion I’m looking for in their songs, Bepo-ya. Looks like I might have to write my own. I’ve never written anything before so go easy on me, okay?” Heading to the kitchen, he returned with his laptop. Scooting himself until he sat with his back against the headboard, he opened up a document and began typing.

 

Hours later, Law stretched as twilight leaked into his room. Standing, he cracked his back and walked to the kitchen. Picking up his morning coffee, he dumped the dredges out of the mug and refilled it with hot coffee. Used to years of coffee brewing all day and being strong enough to peel paint from walls, the blue-haired man simply stirred in a spoonful of sugar, blew on it and sipped as he opened the fridge. Spying a convenient store onigiri, he chose it and an apple and made his way back into the bedroom.

 

Taking a seat on the bed, he ate his impromptu dinner while he thoughtfully looked over the document once again.  
  
“Bepo-ya, I think its finished,” he said, placing aside his now-empty coffee mug. Clearing his throat, he glanced at the plushie and then picked up his phone. Unlocking it, he opened up the camera app and set the phone to record before leaning it against the back of his laptop. Clicking a few keys and reading the lyrics on the screen, he started singing, softly at first, and then louder.

 

_Life is Good…If You Make it So_

 

_Original lyrics by Bepo_

 

_I believe in my heart that Life can be bubblegum skies_

_and shiny rainbows and happy butterflies...IF you let it_

_To see and know that things can work out for the better,_

_if only you truly believe._

 

_CHORUS_

_To jump from the cliff and know that you’ll be safe when you land_

_To have faith in your innermost ideas, that feels truly grand_

_To feel that you’re loved by family and friends makes one feel glad_

_So don’t let the gray clouds come by and make you sad-sad_

 

_I know these things can be lost when into an adult you grow_

_But watch the children; they’re the ones that still know_

_That things will work out one way or another in the end_

_If not, then pick yourself up and just begin again_

 

_CHORUS_

_To jump from the cliff and know that you’ll be caught when you land_

_To have faith in your innermost thoughts, that feels truly grand_

_To know that you’re loved by family and friends makes one feel glad_

_So don’t let the black clouds come by and make you sad-sad_

 

_When problems happen, deal with them, and don’t dwell_

_And go right back to knowing all is going to be well_

_Sometimes its much better to think than to feel_

_To always show the face to others the one that’s real_

 

_That way, your soul will open your heart to love_

_And the stars will shine on you from far above_

_Choose to be happy and to face life strong and brave_

_No one likes to visit a sad, lonely grave_

 

_CHORUS_

_So jump from the cliff and know that you’ll be loved when you land_

_To have trust in your innermost secrets, that feels truly grand_

_To know that you’re loved by the entire Universe makes one feel glad_

_So trust in yourself and your heart and be forever glad-glad_

 

 

Finishing, he uploaded the video to a new youtube account he had created under the name ‘Bepo.’ Adding the lyrics, he closed his laptop and headed out to the living room to watch the evening news.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

About 24 hours later, when he woke up for his evening shift, Law felt like he was ready to deal with anything. The drug dealer had officially been charged with murder and after anonymously paying for Micah’s cremation and burial, Law felt that he did all he could for the homeless youth.

 

Entering the doctor’s changing room, he took off his light jacket and hung it up. Expecting to hear the gossip of “who was sleeping with who” and what sports team won last night, Law heard something else instead-a familiar bubblegum pop song being hummed.

 

“You saw that video too, hunh, Randolph?” a voice asked.

 

“Yeah, my kid had it blasting loud on the family computer. After the seventh time, I had to yell at her to stop playing it. Now its stuck in my head,” Doctor Randolph answered.

 

“It was only posted two days ago, and already it has over two million hits. Talk about going viral!” the first voice replied.

 

”Yeah, whoever that singer is probably has a record deal waiting for him to sign it if he ever shows his face.”  
  
Shocked, Law stood for a moment as the two men moved on to talking about the latest sports scores before he fumbled for his phone. Nearly dropping the device, he opened up youtube to his song.

 

It now had over 2.7 million hits and 23K subscribers.

 

Scrolling down to the comments, he started reading them.

 

“Come on Bepo, show us your face! We need to see who the next pop star is!”

 

“Better than anything Justin Beaver ever sang!”

 

“I’d buy your song in a heartbeat! Itunes, you hear me!”

 

“Marry me Bepo!”

 

“When is your next song coming out? Your voice is AMAZING!”

 

“I’d fuck you, and I’m only 15!”

 

Nearly dropping his phone for a second time in two minutes, Law could only stare at the screen while more comments popped up.

 

He had become a youtube pop star.


	2. Happiness

It was another beautiful day at the brothers' house. The place was intact, the laundry was all done, and the socks were not mismatched in the drawer. Or that's how it was supposed to be, but Ace just _had_ to be the worst brother ever by throwing said socks into the fucking _oven_ to dry them off faster – which unfortunately set them on _fire_ – and he even had the _guts_ to throw the ashes on the sink and blame the fucking _dog_ for it _!_

 

“Luffy, shut up! You're thinking out loud! _In_ _English_ _!”_ Ace's voice echoed through the house.

 

“Was not!” Luffy yelled from the kitchen as he rid the sink of a few remaining ashes. Well, he may be Brazilian, but nothing stopped his inner voice from being North-American. “Also, it's not like you didn't understand what I said. _Also_ also,” he continues, pointing his finger accusingly at the door to the living room even though his brother couldn't really see him, “At least then your _boyfriend_ will know what a shitty housewife you are! I bet you weren't gonna tell him about it until he dragged your sorry ass to Sweden and you set fire to _his_ socks!”

 

A blur of orange with messy dark hair showed up on the entryway almost at the speed of light, and Luffy found himself face to face with a fuming, blushing Ace. “Listen here, you _brat-”_

 

“Ace, shut up! You're yelling! In _English!”_ Luffy said mockingly, in a high pitched voice. “These were my favorite socks. _You burned my lucky socks!_ ”

 

“Quê?! As meias eram _minhas,_ seu _imbecil!”_

 

“The socks… were yours?” a third voice asked from the doorway. Sabo's lean fingers dipped into a pack of Ruffles and he munched on a small chip before adding, “Imbecile.”

 

“Yeah, they were mine,” Ace said with a sigh, while ruffling his hair. It just stayed the same, not straightening up nor messing up any more than before. “The _imbecile_ is Luffy though!”

 

“Oh,” Sabo mumbled with a soft frown, “The connectives can be a little confusing sometimes.”

 

Luffy would roll his eyes at Ace's following blush – the brunette was _absolutely_ drooling over 'how adorable Sabo is when he's concentrated', or something like that – but his socks would never be brought back to life, and they _were his_ indeed, so the youth simply moved his gaze to Sabo with a jutted out lip, drying his hands on a towel. “Ace is totally gonna burn your socks to ashes, just so you know.”

 

While said pyro screeched and took Luffy into a headlock, Sabo smiled brightly like he wasn't afraid of learning little by little about his host family's psychopathic quirks. If anything, he looked amused at the prospect of having his clothes scorched. “It's okay, I have plenty of socks,” the blonde said nonchalantly.

 

Maybe the real psychopath was actually Sabo. _Santa Maria, mãe de Deus!_

 

Luffy shuddered his way out of Ace's lock while the brunette was distracted – yet again – by his blond crush. The youth opened the fridge for a glass of cold soda, mumbling about Brazil's ridiculous weather – he took a shower just before discovering Ace's mess on the oven, fuckdammit, why was his skin already burning in hellish heat?! - then left the two on the kitchen in favor of going upstairs to his bedroom.

 

He left his flipflops by the door and sighed in relief when his feet encountered the cool laminate floor. The youth plopped down in his chair and rolled it closer to the desk, where the slow-as-hell computer was apparently doing its very best to turn on. Luffy pretended to turn a crank to help the machine while sipping on his soda, until Windows decimated any hope for fun that he might have had with its customary updates.

 

1 of 376.

 

Well this was going to be one _long_ afternoon, wasn't it?

 

* * *

 

 

The afternoon wasn't long at all – at least not more than usual, since days would always have twenty four hours no matter what he did – and what a _pity;_ now that he thought about it days should have, like, thirty hours or something – and soon Luffy found himself with an empty glass on his desk and loud, frenetic quirky music blasting from his speakers.

 

Luffy rolled around on his chair, headbanging and pretending to play an accordion to accompany the awesome solo that followed the first chorus, while his voice filled the bedroom with sung words of Jack o Lanterns, jacaranda trees, scarecrows and pumpkin pies.

 

Before he could realize, he was jumping on top of his bed and banging his head like no tomorrow, stopping only to sing – and when Luffy wasn't doing any of these two, he was tripping on his own feet to try and dance to the song. Keyword being _try._ Luffy may have been a natural when it came to athleticism, but he sure as hell had two left feet when it came to dancing.

 

“Luffy!” came a voice from the other side of the door before it flew open to reveal a scowling Ace, “Change the song! Sabo can't stand that one anymore.”

 

“ _Jävl_ _a-_! But I said _nothing_!” the blonde  yelled nervously, while peeking into Luffy's bedroom from behind the brunette. “You're the one who can't stand it, _fittjävel!”_ he added in lower voice.

 

Luffy pouted – he d id n't really blame Ace; he' d been listening to this song nonstop for weeks now – and went to the computer to pause his song while Ace drooled all over the exchange student,  clapping his hands together . “That was nice, Sabo! You should teach us some Swedish,”  he said with a grin.

 

“Well, I… I kind of just called you a cunt, so. That's that.”

 

Luffy snorted and rolled around on his chair, actually finding it a little bit endearing how his brother was all flustered and happy over being called names. “So what song do I play now,  _cunt?_ ”  t he youth asked with a smirk.  He tried to force his gaze to convey  the hidden words  _'I bet you won't kill me with him around'._

 

Ace glared right back at him – ' _just wait until he's gone, asshat'_ his eyes said – and placed his hands on his hips with a sigh. “Well, you can try that one song with the bubblegums.”

 

“Bubblegums…?”

 

“Yeah. It has bubblegum skies, and sad-sad, and then it goes all glad-glad,” Ace explained while gesticulating wildly in a manner that only served to make Luffy more confused.

 

“...você tá bêbado, Ace?”

 

“Yeah, Ace, are you drunk?” Sabo asked quite confidently before hesitantly glancing at Luffy. “Did I get that right? I think I got that right.”

 

“No you didn't!” Ace said quickly, before slapping his own face. “No, I mean – you got the _phrase_ right, but I'm not drunk!”

 

“Oh, I'm aware,” the blonde says with a small smile. “You know, I actually heard the song you mentioned; it's gotten quite popular. I think it was called… 'Life is Good… If You Make it So', or something close to that.”

 

Okay, that sound ed promising. Luffy roll ed around on his chair and type d the title into his YouTube search box, hitting 'enter' with a loud slap  once he was done .

 

“You'll break your keyboard again, Lu.”

 

“Will _not._ This one's resistant. Besides, 'e _nter_ _'_ means ' _final_ _'_ in keyboard language; I can't not hit it!” Ace mumbled something about Luffy's whole salary being used to replenish his broken belongings, but the youth promptly ignored him and examined the results to his search. “Is it the one with this Bepo guy? Person. Bear. Polar bear.”

 

“Yeah, that's the one.”

 

He clicked the link, and all went quiet for a second.  One moment Luffy  was on his bedroom –  surrounded by his mangas, his robot action figures, the empty glass atop his table –  and the next, he  was somewhere he c ouldn't even classify as planet Earth – a deep baritone, smooth like silk, pull ed his mind away from the very fabric of reality itself  and seem ed to caress his skull with every note.

 

Luffy found himself entranced, staring at the screen while gently bobbing his head up and down to the happy,  _bubblegummy_ melody – and when it was done, when the voice left his ears like wind howling through an open window, he let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

 

“Wow. He sings pretty damn well for a polar bear.”

 

“It's a _person_ , Luffy,” Ace corrected, and the younger sibling took two full seconds to remember his brother even had been there, and, _wait a moment,_ had Ace come in _without_ knocking first?! _Again?!_

 

Luffy shook his head to clear off his thoughts –  the se could wait until later –  and prepared himself to click the play button again – and then again, and again, and he internally promised himself he'd listen to the damn song until he began to fucking  _hate_ it.

 

This Bepo guy-person-polar bear just got himself a new fan.

 

* * *

 

Everyone has some kind of talent – but mostly, everyone has some kind of _useless_ talent. Luffy hadn't discovered Sabo's yet, but he did know that Ace was able to sing the National Anthem backwards, for example. His grandfather could shoot peanuts with a flick of his index finger – and they'd hurt like they were fucking pistol rounds – and Luffy _knows_ because he's been _hit_ by those, thankfully wearing a bulletproof vest – while his father could blow strong air currents using solely his lungs and a practiced pout.

 

Watching Dragon destroy birthday cakes by blowing too hard on the candles was as hilarious as it was depressing.

 

Luffy had a useless talent, too. Maybe someone among the billions of people inhabiting the world would find it useful, who knows – it was memorizing things. Textbooks, addresses, quotes, songs, numbers – you name it, Luffy knew it. It wasn't quite photographic memory, but rathersomething that encompassed several of his senses, since it also incorporated his hearing and touch. Luffy was almost like a copy machine.

 

Well, he was quite elastic, too. Figures.

 

In short, by the second time Luffy listened to _Life is Good_ he was humming correctly to the rhythm of the sung words, and by the third time he was already singing together with Bepo.

 

“Told ya so,” Ace commented quietly to Sabo. Luffy pretended he wasn't paying attention, continuing to sing and bob his head to the melody.

 

“Yeah, it's impressive. Imagine what he could do with that ability.”

 

Archiving boring shit in the Air Force's record collection, is what.

 

When the two finally leave him alone, clicking the door quietly behind them, Luffy sighs and leans over his desk, folding his arms over his keyboard to act as a pillow.

 

...S _o don’t let the gray clouds come by and make you sad-sad..._

 

“Se fosse fácil assim...” [ _If only it was that easy...]_ Luffy mumbled humorlessly, burying his face on his arms. If not letting gray clouds make you sad was easy, then he wouldn't have spent the past year and a half refraining from very violently murdering his direct superior.

 

... _I know these things can be lost when into an adult you grow…_

 

The guy was the worst. Bossing Luffy around like a fucking _dog!_ As soon as Luffy rises on the ranks – which he _will –_ he'll be sure to scream loudly into Condoriano's ear and make _him_ cut the grass with a spoon at four A.M. when it's raining.

 

Asshole.

 

. _..That things will work out one way or another in the end…_

 

“Ah, puta que pariu!” Luffy cursed, only to immediately accompany the chorus – fucking earworm of a song, he couldn't _not_ sing it! He tried – he _wanted_ to be angry, damn it – but it was impossible. Bepo's voice rocked his skull from the inside out and simply stole the words from inside his chest before he could properly cage them in.

 

But it felt good – it felt relieving to sing to these lyrics; _freeing_ even. Maybe he didn't want to be angry at all, and was just trying to convince himself of this because it was easier than trying to find a solution for his problems.

 

He didn't _want_ to join the fucking Air Force – it wasn't because of Dragon's inspiring career, or because of Garp's unstoppable insistence, absolutely not. He wouldn't let anyone tell him what to do, especially if it related to something he may end up doing for the rest of his life. Luffy's always wanted to make his own choices, without people forcing them onto him.

 

When the day for his enrollment arrived, Luffy was ready to say he didn't want to join that army shit. He'd still have to go through some simple medical examinations before that, though – and when the arrogant lieutenant that was responsible for the exam looked at Luffy up and down, disapproving, and said with all the syllables that Luffy was _dismissed-_

 

No, absolutely not. He was _not_ dismissed until _he_ decided he was.

 

He was tired of being looked down upon, of being judged by his appearance and his joviality – everyone always took him for some naive, stupid kid – and maybe he _was,_ he had to admit he hadn't explored the world and the people that much, and maybe he hadn't had that many life experiences – but could no one put at least _some_ faith in him? Luffy's smart, determined, hardworking. He may wreck some things due to being impulsive and always speaking his mind, but he's _reliable._

 

Maybe… not that much with driving and swimming. These are bad. Maybe even, uh, horribly awful. Highly accident-prone – no, accident- _sure._ Heart stroke-inducing. But he _is still_ reliable, that's for sure. He can do academic shit, he can do menial shit, he can do _anything_ he puts his mind into, as long as he's given the chance, and as long as it's not driving or swimming.

 

And _that_ , was something he was going to prove to everyone. To the arrogant lieutenant looking down on him; to Ace who wouldn't stop teasing about Luffy not being able to carry a rifle because they're damn heavy – ' _you can only carry that much_ _weight in meat,_ _you little carnivore'_ – and, hell, he'd even make Garp happy, since the old man had wanted him to join the army as had every male in the family before him.

 

Convincing the lieutenant he wanted to join the army wasn't hard in the end – even though he was questioned with a very cocky ' _you sure you wanna do that?' -_ and Luffy endured the hell – six full months – of being trained as a recruit, actually faring better than his colleagues to be honest. Garp was an animal and Dragon didn't care that Luffy had often been shoved into the woods all the time as a child – only to find his way back, _alone –_ so it wasn't exactly difficult for him.

 

What _was_ difficult, though – standing still. And _that_ is something Luffy unfortunately had to do on a daily basis, since due to his impressive memory he was sent to the archives under Lt. Condoriano's wings.

 

Wings. Tch. Condor his _ass,_ more like a fucking _vulture,_ the guy.

 

Luffy's definitively going to quit – but only when he finds something he really wants to do. Something exciting, adrenaline-inducing – in which he's not bossed around by an uptight, arrogant asshole that would rather lock himself into a small room just to hear his own voice bouncing from the walls. Luffy wants...

 

Something that will make him _glad-glad._

 

...that song _really_ is an earworm. Good think that Luffy actually liked it – and, speaking of which, it was time to sing it again.

 

* * *

 

 

When Monday rolled around and Luffy went back home exhausted – shooting training, that day – he pushed the door open with a loud groan, akin to that of a sasquatch. His bag, which had been easy to lift in the morning, now seemed to weigh a ton – no, two. _Three._ Three fucking tons, and when Luffy let it slide to the ground, the loud thumping sound it made almost had him believe that it really did weigh that much.

 

Loud noises came from the kitchen. Luffy considered going straight for the bathroom and avoid the commotion until he was done showering and not about to blow like a bomb, but he was damn hungry and thirsty – and people were laughing, so he figured it wasn't a _bad_ kind of chaos.

 

Unless Ace and Sabo decided to set fire to things together.

 

Oh, shit; his firefighter training won't have to be used now, will it?! It was- It was _one_ week! Luffy couldn't _possibly_ really know shit about firefighting, even though he did memorize the textbook and every possible procedure. They didn't- Did they even have a _hose?!_ Luffy knew there was a bucket close to the washing machine, but…!

 

“Luffy!” Garp yelled with only his head showing from behind the doorway, “Chega de pensar e vem comer churrasco!”

 

Huh? Barbeque?! But it's Monday, for fuck's sake.

 

No, wait, why is Luffy even _questioning_ the fact that there's barbeque?! It means there's _meat_!

 

Grinning from ear to ear and trying to keep his drooling inside, Luffy ran to the kitchen. His grandfather carried a six-pack of beer to the door that led to the backyard and Luffy followed closely behind, with the smell of tasty meat having him almost topple over the elder.

 

Outside, under the fading light of the sunset and the artificial lights hanging on the wall, is practically everyone – Garp cracking open a beer, Sabo elegantly sitting on a chair close to the mulberry tree, Ace sitting just beside him while laughing about who knows what…

 

And Dragon, turning the meat around on the grill with a concentrated expression and a smile that is all tired, but also all happy.

 

Luffy resists a smile of his own and jogs to the grill, wrapping his arms tightly around Dragon. “Pai!” [ _Dad!]_ he called, “Tá fazendo o que aqui?” [ _What are you doing here?]_ Not that the youth is complaining. It's just – last time, he spent almost a year abroad due to deployment, and even missed his son's birthday. Luffy figured he'd be away for just as long, this time – but it had only been three months.

 

“Cancelaram a missão,” [ _They canceled the mission]_ Dragon commented as he ran his fingers over Luffy's hair. “Seu cabelo cresce rápido demais. Ninguém reclama?” [ _Your hair grows too fast. Does no one complain?]_

 

Luffy snorted and pulled away from his father. “Só você,” [ _Only you]_ he retorted, while bringing a chair close to sit close the man and the grill.

 

“Eu gosto do seu cabelo de qualquer jeito, Luffy.” [ _I like you hair any way, Luffy.]_

 

It never ceased to amaze the youth how his father could be so serious – so strict and stern, but at the same time loving. The man flashed him a discreet smile, offering a large piece of meat which Luffy took with a grin – and then a loud, intense hum.

 

“É picanha! Meu Deus do céu, é mesmo picanha!” [ _It's filet steak! Oh my God,_ _it really is_ _filet steak!]_ Luffy whined, delighted at the flavor swirling on his tongue. Dragon smiled wider than before and ruffled the youth's hair.

 

“Sabia que você ia gostar.” [ _I knew you'd like it.]_

 

Content with the meat and a glass of soda on his other hand, Luffy was finally able to relax. Ace made jokes to impress Sabo; Garp and Dragon talked about politics and whatnot – and they all included Luffy in what they did, while old-school samba played on Garp's radio.

 

It was a good song – Luffy recognized it as _Segunda Vez,_ by the group _Relíquia –_ damn, Garp really loved that one, didn't he? - but there was something missing, or lacking – a hollow inside him that didn't quite hurt, but he still wished to fill up, and he knew exactly how to do it. Luffy smiled, closing his eyes and bobbing his head to a song that played solely inside his mind.

 

_So jump from the cliff and know that you’ll be loved when you land_

 

_To have trust in your innermost secrets, that feels truly grand_

 

_To know that you’re loved by the entire Universe makes one feel glad_

 

_So trust in yourself and your heart and be forever glad-glad…_

 

He has to thank Bepo for this one. Maybe after he's done eating, and definitely after cracking a fist on Ace's skull for saying Luffy's finally gone batshit. Then he'll definitely send a message to the polar bear, or maybe leave him a comment, or something, _anything_. This isn't craziness, damn it, it's just…

 

Happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! This is making me really happy. Working with Ryuichi is fun, and not knowing exactly what's going to happen next is exciting, and quite refreshing. I hope you enjoyed this part - this was kind of a prologue for Luffy, wasn't it? - and are eager for the next! I surely am. :D
> 
> Many hugs and kisses,  
> Moony.


	3. News Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Trafalgar talks with a patient...and makes an important discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Right now, my muse is ~~sober~~ cooperating, so my chapters are coming out fairly often. But I also know that once my muse decides to ~~be an asshole again~~ stop cooperating, my chapters will probably come out slowly. Sorry about that.
> 
> Once again, I owe Eiri a HUGE thanks! Lets give him a round of applause for betaing this chapter despite being sick! *stands, claps and whistles* WOOT! You go boy! 
> 
> Ryuichi
> 
> *~*~*~*~*
> 
>  
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING!**
> 
> **1.) Mild Panic attack**
> 
>    
> If I miss a trigger, PLEASE say so in the comments, I read (and answer) every comment I get!  Thank you.  
> 

 

Law shifted the clipboard in his hand before opening the door to the private hospital room. A silver-haired woman laid in the bed, hazel eyes twinkling behind pink-framed glasses.

 

“Good afternoon Mrs. Williamson. I am Doctor Trafalgar. I will be your surgeon for your heart oper...” the midnight blue-haired doctor began.

 

Mrs. Williamson’s TV was on.

 

And his song was playing in the background of a news story.  
  
“This song is so popular with the kids now. My granddaughter came in humming it yesterday when she came to visit me. Isn’t it a nice song?” the elderly patient said, not having heard anything Law had said.

 

Law could only stare at the TV screen.

 

 _..._ _t_ _his upbeat, positive pop song has become the latest viral_ _video_ _hit,_ the female news reporter explained. The male reporter next to her bobbed his head in time to the song.

 

_Its being sung in schoolyards, on buses, and even in workplaces. It seems that in today’s political and social climate, this simple song of candy and rainbows has struck a much-needed positive nerve with the public. Even thought it was released only 4 days ago, it has nearly 10 million hits on youtube._

 

 _Definitely a viral hit, Sonya,_ the male reporter added. _And now the question_ _s being asked are_ _, “Who is Bepo_ _and is he planning on writing another smash viral hit song_ _?_ _This is Robert Vibranon and Sonya Drummond with the Human Interest Minute._

 

“Such a nice man to give us such a happy song. Don’t you think so doctor...doctor?” Mrs. Williamson asked the surgeon.  
  
But Law was nowhere to be found.

 

Inside the nearest men's restroom, Law was trying to bring himself down from a panic attack. One hand on his chest, he closed his eyes and counted his breathing. He got to 56 before he gave up.

 

Sitting the clipboard on his lap, the surgeon sat down on the toilet seat and placed his head in his hands.

 

_Wha...what have I done? I only wanted to feel better after Micah’s death, not become some...pop star! I don’t wanna be a pop star! How do I fix this?_

 

 _Maybe...maybe if I ignore it, it will go away._ _I’ll just go back to work and pretend that it never happened. And when people talk about it, I’ll just ignore them. That’s logical. After all, its not something that anyone would connect to me in any way. My voice is not all that unique after all. Its just another voice_.

 

Straightening his tie and white lab coat, Law stood up and opened the stall door. Striding confidently over to the sink, he ran the cold water and pulled out a paper towel. Wetting the towel, he wiped off his face, then made himself presentable before exiting the men’s room.

 

He headed back to Mrs. Williamson’s room, then stopped outside of the door, took a deep breath, and then opened it.

 

He stopped when he realized there was now a visitor in the room.

 

The pair inside turned to look at him, the beautiful younger woman sitting at the beside continued to quietly sing.

 

She was singing his song.

 

Paling, the golden-eyed doctor resisted the impulse to grimace, instead quietly closed the door behind him and waited just inside the room.

 

Finishing the song, the woman smiled at the older woman in the bed, then turned towards Law.

 

“Oh Doctor...I didn’t catch your name,” Mrs Williamson remarked.  
  
Resisting the childish urge to say “I didn’t throw it,” the blue-haired surgeon nodded sagely at the pair before gesturing to the clipboard in his hand.

 

“I am Doctor Trafalgar, and I will be your surgeon for your cardiac bypass operation tomorrow. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go over some paperwork….”

 

“Oh, my granddaughter Adrianna will be happy to sign anything you need, Doctor Trafalgar. Adrianna, Doctor Trafalgar, Doctor Trafalgar, my granddaughter Adrianna Williamson.”

 

Adrianna stood up and turned towards Law, her slender hand held out for a handshake.

 

“Very nice to meet you, Doctor Trafalgar. Thank you so much for taking such wonderful care of my grandmother,” she said, smiling.

 

Sticking the clipboard underneath his arm, Law returned the handshake, which was firm but not painful.

 

 _A woman used to shaking hands,_ he thought to himself.

 

“See Adri? Didn’t I tell you that he was _very_ handsome?” Mrs. Williamson gushed.

 

Law released her hand a bit too quickly at that remark. He coughed into his hand, then pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer.

 

Adrianna watched, then turned back to her grandmother.

 

“Granny, I told you, I don’t need a boyfriend. Please stop introducing me to every good-looking man you meet.”

 

Law blushed slightly at the compliment, but said nothing.

 

“Adri, if I don’t introduce you around, how will I get great-grandchildren? I want to at least meet them before I die!” Mrs. Williamson cried.

 

Adrianna sighed.

 

“Granny, you’ll outlive us all. Besides, you _know_ I don’t want children,” she remarked, continuing what seemed like an old argument.

 

Law couldn’t agree more.

 

Children were animals that you couldn’t sell to pet stores.

 

No one would take them.

 

“Uh...Miss Williamson, Mrs. Williamson. If I could get you to sign these release forms...” he started, once again gesturing towards the clipboard.

 

“I’ll sign them Doctor Trafalgar,” Adrianna said, reaching for the clipboard. “I have power of attorney for my grandmother. And its Ms.”

 

Nodding, he reached into his pocket. “That’s fine,” he replied, pulling out a bright yellow pen. Untwisting the cap, he handed it to the younger woman.  
  
“Ooh, a fountain pen! How fancy!” she remarked, smiling.

 

“Fancy pens make the mundane work of signing papers a bit more interesting,” Law said.

 

Never mind the fact that he had a drawerful of the inexpensive pens.

 

Explaining what she was signing, Law explained each form to Adrianna before she signed it. Finished, she handed the clipboard back to the blue-haired surgeon.

 

“Just be sure to take extra-special care of Granny while I’m gone, Doctor Trafalgar,” she said, staring into his eyes.

 

“I can assure you, I take extra-special care of _all_ of my patients, Ms. Williamson,” Law said, slightly miffed.

 

“I’m sure he’ll treat me just fine, Adri,” Mrs Williamson reiterated. “Won’t you Doctor Trafalgar?”

 

“Yes I will,” he promised, nodding at the ladies.

 

:Adrianna stood up and gave Mrs. Williamson a quick kiss.

 

“I have to go now Granny. That story won’t wait, you know. I have to get on it before it becomes old news.”

 

“Okay dear, good luck with it, I hope you find that Bepo-person!” The older woman tittered back.

 

Law felt his heart stop at her words.

 

Moving past the blue-haired surgeon, Adrianna smiled back at her grandmother. “Don’t worry Granny, I’ll find him and get an interview!” The door shut behind her as she left the room.

 

“Adri is such a hard worker! I’m sure she’ll find that Bepo-person and get her interview!” the elderly woman chirped.

 

Law smiled back at her, his heart in his mouth.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Taking off his shoes, Law tossed his keys in the glass bowl that sat on the table by his condo door. Heading to the couch, he flopped face-down onto the leather surface, ending up with his head in the lap of the giant plushie polar bear.

 

“Bepo-ya, we have a fucking _reporter_ looking for us, wanting an interview! What the FUCK did I do? I just wanted to sing a _song_ , not become some kind of...viral video pop star! Everyone’s looking for us now!”

 

Bepo said nothing.

 

Sighing, Law sat up off the couch and picked up the remote. Turning on the TV, he put the volume down low and laid sideways on the couch, his head back on the plushie’s lap.

 

Before he realized it, he was sound asleep.

 

Waking up a couple hours later, he sat up on the couch and stretched.  
  
He picked up his laptop from the coffee table. “Dinnertime, Bepo-ya. I think I’ll order from that new Chinese place down the street,” he told the bear. Doing a search, he found the restaurant, typed in his order, then got up from the couch to get a beer from the fridge.

 

Sipping the liquid, he returned to the couch, and channel-surfed while he waited for the delivery person. When he heard the knock at the front door, he opened it to find a pimply-faced girl of about 18 chewing a wad of gum and holding a full paper bag.

 

“Your dinner comes to $22.50, sir,” she quoted in a bored voice before blowing a small bubble then popping it.

 

Imagining smashing the bubble against the rude girl’s face, Law smirked

 

Instead, he placed the bag on the nearby side table and counted out $25. Holding it out, he frowned when she looked around him, complete and total shock evident on her face.

 

His frown deepened when her gum fell onto his polished hardwood floor.

 

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?! Law asked angrily.

 

Before it hit him.

 

The white plushie bear was sitting on his black leather couch.

 

In plain view.

 

“...is that _Bepo?!_ ” the girl yelled incredulously, pushing her way further into Law’ home.

 

Wide-eyed, he froze as the girl quickly pulled out her cell phone and clicked a picture of the polar bear.

 

“No! NO!” he shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders.

 

“OH MAH GAWD I CAN’T BELIEVE I DELIVERED FOOD TO BEPO!” she shrieked in a high pitch voice.

 

Somehow the doctor managed to forcibly push her out the door and onto the sidewalk. Slamming the door behind him, Law turned all three deadbolt locks and momentarily leaned against the door. Dreading what he would find, he peeked out the door’s tiny window. He watched as she quickly typed on her phone then jumped on her motor scooter and drove away.

 

Law knew it was only a matter of time.

 

He had been found out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Here is a really good cover of the song that gave me the idea for the title. When I first heard it years ago, I played it for like days straight. I still love this song!
> 
> I Wanna Be A Popstar by Ken Hirai
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oahEB2C3npk


End file.
